Silver Moon (17 page)

Slowly, Elyse regained consciousness. The first thing she heard was the incessantly shrill voice of her aunt screaming angrily at Hollingsby and her husband.

Carefully, she tested her body, moving first one leg and then the other. When she discovered there was no pain, she breathed more easily. Her arms were numb, but she made fists of her hands and, painfully, the circulation returned with waves of needles and pins. Then she tried to bring them from behind her.

They wouldn’t move.
Still tied!
Taking a deep breath and keeping her eyes closed, Elyse concentrated on her aunt’s voice. A moment later, she felt a thrill of excitement.

“It’s your fault!” Elizabeth shouted as she faced Hollingsby. “I should have known better than to trust you with the details. Your little blonde whore sold us out!”

“And you could have done better?” Hollingsby retorted. “All you were capable of doing was to spend your brother’s fortune in your dreams. We would still be in that disgusting inn if it hadn’t been for me, and Elyse would still be free at Devonairre, so don’t place the blame on me!”

“And what do you propose we do now?” Elizabeth demanded.

“Go to Kingston!”

“We don’t have a guide,” she reminded him.

“We don’t need one. He already said Kingston was three hours due south. The sun is starting to come up. That’s the only guide we need.”

Hearing this, Elyse slowly opened her eyes. She was lying on her side, facing away from them, toward the east. From behind a high mountain, she saw the first bands of the new day reaching out for the sky.

Help me, Brace, come for me
, she called silently.

*****

Lucea stood still, her head tilted to one side. She, Charles, and Ann were on the veranda of Devonairre’s main house. They had been there since she and Charles returned from Lucea’s village, where Lucea gave the orders that sent the drums beating.

They spent the night sitting together, talking about times past, and of the present, as they waited to learn if the message had been successful.

Lucea held up her hand, and a slow smile spread across her face. “It is done. They are delayed. Their guide left them in the mountains.”

“Thank you, Lucea,” Ann said, taking the Obeah woman’s hand in hers.

“Is this not what friends are for?” she asked, looking at the two people with whom she had shared so much of her life.

“I hope Brace will be in time, now,” Charles said.

“As I do, too,” Lucea replied. “I tried to see. Tried to speak with my spirits, but they remained mute on this. Perhaps it is for the best.” Lucea shrugged to emphasize her words. “You were right, Charles, not to tell Brace of his heritage until now.”

“He would have been doubly bitter,” Charles responded. “But now he can look at himself and see that what I did was done for him as much as for myself.”

Ann’s hand closed over her husband’s. “And for me.”

“Especially you,” Charles said.

“It is a shame,” Lucea began, looking at Charles and Ann, “that more people are not like you and Harlan Louden.”

“Eventually they must seek different ways.”

“They will not seek them. They are too content to maintain their lives as they are. No, different ways need to be forced upon them. It will happen soon.”

“Rebellion?” Charles asked.

“If full emancipation is not given soon, there will be no other choice than a repeat of what has happened twice before.”

Charles agreed. “We must be glad that Brace and Elyse are not of the mold of the others.” Lucea smiled again. “No, they could never be like them. Never.”

*****

“You can’t get away with this!” Elyse challenged as they descended along the last mountain slope. Kingston, spread out below them, was the largest pocket of civilization on Jamaica.

“But we have, my dear,” Hollingsby stated. He rode next to Elyse, as he had been since morning. His eyes were constantly on her, never giving her a chance to make another attempt at escape.

She looked past him, to her aunt. “Not yet, Elizabeth!” Her voice was loud and piercing. “I have been legally declared Lady Louden. I have been given full control of my family’s properties.”

“Only for a short time longer,” Elizabeth replied without bothering to look at her niece. With the coming of the sun, and seeing that the way to Kingston was indeed clear, her spirits had recovered. Within her twisted mind, Elizabeth was savoring the riches denied her for too long.

An hour and a half later—Elyse thought it to be close to nine in the morning—they reached the very outskirts of Kingston and the four riders stopped. Elyse looked at their disheveled, dirty clothing, and their greed-filled eyes.

“We must skirt the town,” Hollingsby cautioned.

“Yes,” Elizabeth nodded in agreement. “The less people see of us, the better. When we reach the inn, we’ll send a message to that pompous acting governor that we must have our hearing before noon.”

“He’s already had a taste of our gold. I don’t think he’ll be a problem,” Carl ventured with a quick glance at his wife.

“Until the papers are signed, any number of problems might arise,” she stated, favoring him with a distant glare. Then she turned her hate-filled eyes on Elyse. “Shall we gag you, or will you keep still?”

“Gag me? Do you think you can parade a tied, gagged woman through the streets without anyone stopping you?”

“Gag her!” Elizabeth ordered.

“No,” Hollingsby interrupted. “I have a better idea.”

Elizabeth stared at him. “Your ideas never seem to reach fulfillment.”

“Spare me your sarcasm, bitch, I’m growing tired of it. Or have you not realized that without me, you will stay as poor as you are now?” Elizabeth started to respond, but stopped herself, her lips flattening into a tight line.

“That’s better. Elyse will stay here with Carl, hidden from sight. You and I will go to the inn. We’ll change there, get fresh clothing for your husband and Elyse, and then get a closed carriage to transport us to the governor. It should take no more than a few hours.”

“All right. Carl,” she said, her eyes narrowing on her husband. “Don’t let her get away, this time.”

Five minutes later, Elyse stood still, her hands bound behind her back again, her ankles secured by yet another piece of rope, watching her aunt and Hollingsby ride away. Her sense of doom grew stronger, as the thin and desperate thread of hope she held alive seemed to be dwindling by the minute.

*****

Brace stood at the bow of the Brittania, staring at earthquake-destroyed remains of Port Royal, once the proudest of Caribbean ports and the entrance to Kingston Harbor. They had been lying offshore since before sunrise, waiting for the full light of day so they could maneuver the Brittania safely into port.

Throughout the longest night of his life, Brace had come to terms with everything that had been mixing in his mind. The fact that his father had named him Duke of Wadworth, and by that act made him the head of his line, was only a small portion of what had been going through his head.

The reality of his new position in life was not his most overpowering concern. Elyse’s safety was. He hoped his mother and father were right in assuming he would be able to use his title to help Elyse.

Although he knew Kingston fairly well, he had no friends here and only a few acquaintances. Will knew more people, but they were merchants and seamen.

There would be no telling where the Sorrels would hide with Elyse until they brought her to the acting governor. Brace knew Albright only slightly, but the rumors about his dishonest dealings were common in Jamaica.

In the acting governor, Brace realized, the Sorrels had found a perfect ally.

“We’re getting under way now,” Will said as he joined Brace at the bow.

“Good.”

“Have you thought of our next step?”

“We must try to find her in town, or find the inn where they are staying. We need to know when they arrive in Kingston.”

“If the drums were successful, then they are not yet here.”

“If we’re too late,” Brace said as he gazed at Port Royal and the ships moored beyond it, “we’ll take whatever ship they are on.”

“You’d make me a pirate because of love?” Will asked, shaking his head.

Within Will’s gray eyes, Brace saw a spark flare. The intuition he’d felt when he first spoke to Will about Elyse returned. “You love her, don’t you?”

Will started to deny it, but then smiled. “I fell in love with her when we came from England. But I knew that I was not the man for her. I could see it in her eyes. But yes, I love her; I always will.”

“Enough to risk your life?”

“I’m already doing that, aren’t I? Just one thing,” Will said, his voice low and intense. “What?”

“My father was killed helping her. I want the people responsible.”

“You have my word.”

Will started away, but stopped after only half a dozen steps. “Brace…when this is over, if you don’t make her happy, royalty or no, you’ll answer to me.”

Brace didn’t respond, and Will did not expect him to. After another moment, Will went to the bridge and guided the Brittania into Kingston Harbor.

Elyse was silent for most of the time that she was alone with her uncle, but as the hour for her aunt’s return neared, she knew she had to try to regain her freedom.

“Why, Carl? Did you think I would throw you out of the estate? Did you think I wanted to live in Devon, rather than Jamaica?”

Carl looked at her, his small eyes raking across her face. His jowly cheeks vibrated when he shook his head. “What else would you have done?”

“Exactly what my father did. Leave you and Elizabeth in charge of our property in England. Send the funds to keep everything going.”

“Yes, you would dole out the money as did your father, one little coin at a time!”

“If you needed more, why didn’t you ask Father?”

“And beg him? Never!”

“You were part of our family. My father would not have considered it begging.”

“Oh, easy for you to say. You have all the money you need.”

“Release me. Let me go and I’ll see that you have whatever money you want.”

“Really?” Carl asked, his eyes becoming unreadable.

“Yes,” Elyse promised, sensing a possible victory.

“Or would you run back to Devonairre and make sure the world knew what has happened?”

“I won’t do that if you release me.”

“Did you know my family’s lineage can be traced back a thousand years? Did you know that my title is of longer standing than your own? That my nobility ranks higher than your father’s ever did?”

“Please,” she whispered.

“That’s right, beg me to help you! I’ve been a slave to your family ever since I married your aunt. Your father made me feel as if I were a beggar looking for a handout. My wife married me because no one else would have her. She treats me like a stable hand. No! Damn you! I’ve waited too long to taste the sweetness of money again. And no one, not you, nor Hollingsby, not my cold wife will stop me now!” Elyse shivered at the insanity in Carl’s face, and knew nothing she could do would convince him to release her.

Blinking back tears of frustration, Elyse tried to think of another way out. All too soon, Elizabeth and Hollingsby returned.

When they stepped down from the carriage, Hollingsby’s clothing fresh and shining in the morning sun, her sense of revulsion threatened to make her sick.

Holding her breath, she stared angrily at his pockmarked face.
If they win, I will escape or die before submitting to him
.

“Time to dress, my dear,” Hollingsby said with a half-smile. His eyes locked on hers for a moment. “Can we trust you to cooperate?” He held out the dress.

Elyse looked from him to the dress, wondering absently where he had gotten it, for it was very similar to one from her wardrobe in England. She glanced at Elizabeth who was handing Carl his clothing.

“Yes,” she said, knowing this might be her last chance and that she had to take it.

Hollingsby motioned for her to turn around. When she did, he cut the ropes and freed her wrists. She turned to face him, rubbing her wrists gently with her hands.

“Here,” he said, thrusting the dress at her.

She took it, but did not move. “My ankles.”

Hollingsby stared at her for a moment before bending and cutting the rope. When he rose, he nodded. “Get dressed.”

Elyse turned and went toward the carriage.

“Where are you going?” Elizabeth asked, stepping in front of her to block the way.

“You don’t expect me to dress in front of everyone, do you?”

Elizabeth rarely, if ever, showed Elyse any great concern, but for some reason, this request seemed to strike her differently. Stepping aside, Elizabeth motioned Elyse to continue.

When she reached the carriage, she paused to look back. Hollingsby and Elizabeth watched her carefully, and Carl, who was half-undressed, tried to hide his immense bulk behind a small tree.

Elyse went to the back of the carriage and hid herself from the others. Thinking quickly, she looked around. Twenty yards behind her was a copse of trees. They were dense enough for her to hide and to make it difficult for the others to catch her. All she had to do was reach the trees.

Make them relax
. Slowly, she undid the bodice of the nightdress she’d been wearing. She stepped out of the dress, and let it fall in a pile at her feet.

As she straightened, she looked at her captors. Elizabeth watched her closely, while Hollingsby appeared completely uninterested, and turned away from her.

Making as much movement as possible, Elyse drew on the petticoats that were part of the dress, and then put on the thin chemise. All the while, her eyes kept flicking toward Elizabeth, waiting for the right opportunity.

Carl called to Elizabeth for help with his vest.
Now
, her mind ordered. Without giving it further thought, Elyse ran toward the trees. Halfway there, something caught her long hair from behind, jerking her from her feet. A wrenching pain tore through her scalp. She fell to the ground with a hard jar, the wind knocked from her lungs.

For brief seconds she thought she would die. Each time she tried to breathe, a searing, burning lance ripped through her chest, but finally the pain subsided and she was able to breathe again.

When she opened her eyes, she found herself staring into Hollingsby’s hard face.

The penniless nobleman wagged a finger above her. “So foolish, so stubborn. It appears that I must dress you.”

With that, Hollingsby grabbed her wrist and yanked her to her feet. He dragged her, while she fought and protested, until they were at the carriage again.

Elyse tried to pull away and Hollingsby spun on her. His hand, whip-like, struck her cheek.

“Enough!” he declared. “Either put this dress on, or I’ll do it myself!”

Glaring at him, refusing to acknowledge the pain from his blow, or the taste of blood in her mouth, Elyse took the dress and put it on. Only when she had finished, did Hollingsby speak again.

“Put out your hands.”

Knowing further resistance was useless, Elyse did as he ordered. Once again, he bound her wrists.

“I want her filthy mouth gagged,” Elizabeth ordered.

“It’s far from filthy; in fact, it’s quite lovely.” Hollingsby traced a finger traced along Elyse’s lips. Then his eyes grew cold. “Although she does have a tendency to talk too much.”

Smiling, Hollingsby lifted a piece of material and quickly covered Elyse’s mouth.

The ride through the outskirts of Kingston was done quickly, and within minutes, they were on the highway toward Spanish Town, which was the small capital of Jamaica, and where King’s House—the governor’s palace—was located.

When they crossed over the iron bridge, built just after the turn of the century, Elyse knew there would be no more chances for escape. By the time the sun reached its highest point in the clear blue sky, the carriage rolled to a stop in the central plaza, at the very gates of King’s House.

Ordering Elizabeth and Carl to watch Elyse, Hollingsby left the carriage and went up the steps into the huge white building. When he disappeared, Elyse closed her eyes.

Too late,
she cried silently.
Too late.

Ten minutes later, Hollingsby returned and gestured for Carl to climb down from the driver’s seat. Then, moving quickly, he untied Elyse’s hands and removed the gag.

“It’s over now, my dear. Please don’t create any more of a disturbance; it will only help our cause. After all, the governor thinks you’re addle-brained as it is.”

Knowing he was speaking nothing but the truth, Elyse nodded her head. With Elizabeth on one side of her, and Carl on the other, she followed Jeremy Hollingsby past the two uniformed guards who stood before the door to the governor’s office, and into the office itself. When the door closed, she knew the outside world was gone.

*****

Brace and Will spent most of the morning searching through town, going to each inn and inquiring about the Sorrels. Although he chafed at the time they wasted, Brace knew he had no choice. Originally, he had wanted to go directly to the governor’s, but to go there without knowing if Elyse had been taken there could be a mistake, especially if Albright was indeed involved with the Sorrels. Yet, time was speeding by too quickly as he and Will entered the fifth inn.

Colleen said they were taking Elyse to Kingston to stand before the governor. However, the governor wasn’t in Kingston. The capital of Jamaica was not Kingston, it was its sister town, Spanish Town, though rarely was a distinction made. Spanish Town and Kingston were always spoken of together.

“A room, gentlemen?” the innkeeper asked as he approached them, taking in the cut of their clothing with an experienced eye.

“We’re looking for friends,” Will said quickly. “The Lord and Lady Sorrel.”

The innkeeper’s grin widened. “You just missed them. They left not an hour ago.”

“To where?” Brace asked quickly, his voice strained.

“I do not ask about the comings and goings of my guests,” the innkeeper replied stiffly.

“The governor’s palace in Spanish Town; we’re too late,” Brace whispered to Will. Then he turned back to the innkeeper. “Did they go by carriage?”

The innkeeper did not answer. Brace’s rage built, but before it could explode at the innkeeper, Will handed the man a coin.

The innkeeper glanced at it, and a second later, it disappeared into his pocket, almost magically.

“As a matter of fact, they did. They requested I hire a carriage for them, which of course I was more than happy to do.”

“Was there a young lady with them?”

The innkeeper shook his head. “Only Lady Sorrel and the Earl.”

“Hollingsby,” Brace stated. Spinning and dragging Will with him, Brace left the inn and went directly to a stable where he hired two horses. While they waited for the horses to be saddled, Brace explained to Will what he believed had happened.

“They must have left Elyse outside of town. If they started back an hour ago, it would take them a quarter hour to return to get her. We still have time!”

As soon as their mounts were ready, they had raced out of Kingston, galloping madly toward Spanish Town. An hour later, they rode into the plaza.

Brace and Will brought their horses to a stop at the very gates of King’s House—the governor’s palace and offices. As one, they dismounted and raced toward the steps of King’s House.

Brace, taking in the presence of the driverless livery carriage they passed, paused for a moment to look inside. There, on the floorboards, he saw a pile of clothing. Reaching in, he lifted a white nightdress. “It has to be Elyse’s!” Once again, the two men started off, racing past the first set of guards who ineffectually tried to bar their way.

Inside, Brace turned left and gazed down the hallway toward the governor’s chamber. Two uniformed guards stood at attention before the closed mahogany double doors.

He glanced at Will. “Ready?”

Will nodded.

They didn’t run this time; rather, they took long, purposeful steps. The hallway stretched to infinity for Brace as he neared the guards. He knew he was at the end of his journey, and Elyse waited for him behind the closed doors.

“Halt!” ordered the guard on the left, dressed in full uniform, the stripes of his rank gleaming on his sleeves.

“We must see the governor,” Brace stated.

“He is conducting business at present,” the guard said in a haughty tone. “You must see the clerk and make an appointment.”

“See here!” Will said in a loud, authoritative voice. “Do you realize you’re addressing the Duke of Wadworth? Would you dare bar him from the governor?”

The guard looked uneasily at Brace, and then at the other guard. “My lord,” he said, the tone of his voice changing, “my orders are clear; I’m sorry.”

Brace, his face hard and unforgiving, lifted the hand with the signet ring. The guard’s eyes followed it. “Do you recognize the insignia of the Royal Family?” Brace asked.

The guard’s eyes went to the ring. Without hesitating, Brace’s arm lashed out, his hand already balled into a fist, and struck the guard squarely on his jaw. At his side, Will did the same to the other. Both guards collapsed in a heap on the floor.

“I always thought those rings had some value,” Will commented dryly as he relieved one of the guard’s musket.

Brace didn’t respond; instead he went to the door and opened it just enough to hear what was happening inside.